The Marauders' Era: Golden Age of Disaster
by x -aph-x
Summary: The life and randomness of the group of infamous pranksters known to Hogwarts school as the Marauders. Voldemort's uprise, and the confusion that follows.
1. Early Beginnings

A/N: The characters of Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, James Potter, Frank Longbottom, Alice Prewett, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonnagal, V.Dawg, Andromeda Black/Tonks, Ted Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, yada yada yada, Don't belong to me and This story is in no way affiliated with warner bros. BLAH BLAH BLAH. I don't make money off this, so it's legal. Onwards now. I thought it would be REALLY important for me to let you know that this is my FIRST attempt at fanfiction.

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CHAPTER ONE: EARLY BEGINNINGS

_November 1966-An increasing number of mysterious disappearances have been ocurring across Europe, and now rumors of dark activity are beginning to surface. Could the wizarding community be facing a threat as seriousas that of Grindelwald? Turn to page B3 for details._

Aren't they _done_ yet?" Anabelle Lupin threw the newspaper down onto a clean, varnished wooden table, wringing her hands in anxiety. She paced the small room, soft leather shoes silent on the carpeted floor. Looking at a reception desk, she read the small sign hanging above it; _"St. Mungos hospital, creature-induced injuries ward". _The desk was currently empty, as was the rest of the room save for one person-her husband. "Roger, what do you think's taking them so long?" She peered out the small square window at the full moon, which was partially obscured by clouds.

"I don't know, I really don't." Roger Lupin ran a hand through his greying hair, staring determinedly at the sterile white-tiled ceiling. The Lupins had a young son whome they loved a great deal, named Remus. Remus had been born and raised on the Lupins' country farm, and was now six years old. However, tonight, he had gone out to play, and come back with a sizeable chunk taken out of his leg. Quite the shock for his elderly parents. Now all they had left to do was wait, wait in the hospital for results from the healers...

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Hundreds of miles away, in a rather dingy sector of Liverpool...yelling and anguished shrieks rang through the halls of a small, unfurnished house, as a pale boy sat in his nearly-empty bedroom, knees drawn up to his chest, crying silently. Hearing his parents rowinglike this was a common event in the Snape household, but when you were only six, this was a bit much to deal with. Choking down a sob, Severus pulled his limp, greasy black hair out of his face, hooked nose running unchecked.

---

As we move along to Kent, the atmosphere changes dramatically. A little girl sat at a picnic spread in a park, admiring her birthday presents, beaming at her family. She gestured at a large cake, looking to her elder sister imploringly. "Can you cut it, Patty?". 'Petunia' had been a rather difficult word for the young Lily Evans to pronounce, so she had been 'Patty' ever since. Petunia, however, was currently feeling jealous at the amount of attention Lily was getting, and wasn't in the mood for being nice.

"No I will _not _cut the cake for you, I'm not your servant." -At which point the cake promptly exploded in her face.

---

Only two miles away, another family was outside. A pair of grandparents gazed adoringly at a somewhat chubby little boy with mousy-brown hair and small watery eyes. After staring intently at the ground for a moment, he picked up a piece of chalk and scrawled his own name on the ground;_Peter. _Standing up to admire his handiwork, he tripped on a piece of chalk and plopped back down on the ground. _Fhwup_.

_---_

_Fhwup. Fhwup. Fhwup_. A pillow hit the ceiling of a dark and dingy room, thrown by a boy lying on his bed. A shaft of light filtered into the room through the torn curtains, throwing his face into sharp relief. Black hair fanned around his face as he lay there, fathomless grey eyes trained on the ceiling as he launched his pillow. If there was one thing that made this boy a black, it was that once he decided he didn't like something, it was final, and he did NOT like being a Black. There was simply no talking to the kid when he got like this.

---

"James!", came an exasperated cry from the quiet community of Godric's Hollow. "James, dear, come down off the coffee table." Six-year-old James Potter had clearly had more than enough sugar that morning. Having nicked his father's wand, James was currently standing on the oak coffee table, wand in the air, glasses sliding down his nose. "I'm a lizard", he sang out into the house, causing his mother to laugh, plucking the ecstatic James down off the table. Picking up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, she read the headline and flopped down on an easy chair, eyes suddenly tight with worry. This was not a good time to raise a child in. Gazing at the now-giggling James, she wondered what the boy would go through, simply for living when he did.

---

Sunlight poured into a rustic ground-level bedroom, highlighting a calendar opened to _August 1971_. Perched on the edge of a squashy bed was eleven-year-old Remus Lupin, who was picking at a scab on his arm with apparent interest. "That'll scar nicely", he muttered to himself. Truth be told, Remus was feeling less than optimistic about school. His parents were in the kitchen, talking to the new Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Due to , his parents were worried about whether or not he would be able to go to school. He absently tugged at a lock of sandy hair, contemplating the only bit of conversation he had overheard, something about 'violent shrubbery'. Whatever. he rolled over, noticing red stains on the sheets. So, he had picked his scabs too much again.

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A pair of weathered canvas shoes hit the pavement in the streets of Liverpool, carrying a silent Severus Snape as far away from his family as he dared go. They had been rowing again, and his mother was looking rather ill lately. Severus had been carrying the burden of someone twice his age, and it was showing. He had become quite antisocial, preferring to take long walks alone. He was jerked out of his reverie, however, by a large feather something hitting him in the back of the head. A large feathery _owl,_ to be precise. Having relieved the owl of its letter, he looked it over, and smirked. So he would be leaving. Perfect. A glint of ambition sparked in the elven-year-old's eyes, convinced that he may be able to make something of his life after all.

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"Can you pass the Cheerios, Patty?" Eleven-year-old Lily Evans sat at the kitchen table of her Kent home, watching her decidedly normal family. Her mother was washing the dishes, her father, picking at a plate of scrambled eggs, and Petunia...well. Petunia.

A clanking sound signalled the arrival of the daily post. "I'll get it!" Lily called, springing to her feet. As she returned to kitchen, a letter adressed in emerald-green ink caught her eye. "Hey mum, I got a letter, look at this, _'Ms. L. Evans, the kitchen..._'"

---

"Oh, Earl, our Peter's got his letter!" The full (and extended) family of Peter Pettigrew surrounded him, patting his head, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks-pretty much babying the boy, who, in all honesty, looked terrified. Nervous enough, at least, that he had tripped and fallen into the immense girth of his father. _Fhwup._

_---_

_Fhwup. Fhwup. Fhwup. _A pillow hit the ceiling of a dark and dingy room, thrown by a boy lying on his bed. Sound familiar? It should. Sirius Black had changed very little. He still looked the same, still resented his family, and still-SMACK. An owl had flown through the open window and hit the tossed pllow. Oops. Checking over the owl, he untied the letter it had been carrying from its leg. He gave it the briefest of glances and a smile lit his face. "Excellent, a ticket out of this dump," he thouight to himself, throwing the letter, face-up, onto his bed. If one cared to read the adress, they would find this. _"Mr. S. Black, the attic bedroom, number twelve Grimmauld Place, London."_

---

A pair of urgent whispers wafted up from the living room of a small house in Godric's Hollow. It appeared that the son of this pair had gotten the letter accepting him into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but due to recent events...did they want him to go? Their choice was made for them, however, when eleven-year-old James tore down the stairs gleefully. "It came, didn't it? It finally came! Tell me it came!" James had calmed down a bit over the years, but in the last weeks before school, he had been rocketing about the house, anticipating his acceptance into Hogwarts.

"Yes, dear, it came."

James, ecstatic, punched the year. "YEAH, I'm a liz-er.. a wizard!"

His parents exchanged worried glances, and looked down at that day's _Daily Prophet._ An eerie symbol, a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, leered at them from the front page.


	2. Of Crossed Paths and Crossed Wires

A/N: To FireOpal: Thank you very much for my first review, and of /course/ it'll slow down after arrival. Don't you worry your pretty little head.

Now, to the disclaimer. I think it's pretty obvious that I don't own any of the main characters. I would, however, like to point out that Kathleen and Kara and Elham belong to /me/. And I don't own Ikea(duh).

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CHAPTER TWO: OF CROSSED PATHS AND CROSSED WIRES

Steam billowed from a scarlet steam-engine as hundreds of young witches and wizards milled around the concealed platform 9 3/4, prepared to set off to school for the year. Parents gave their children last-minute hugs, gave them money for the year, even warned them to be good, as was the case with Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Young James, however, wasn't about to miss getting a good spot on the train to be scolded. "Bye, mum!", he shouted behind him as he ran for the train. School at last. Of course, maybe he would have done better to heed his father's whispered advice to be careful, as, before he had even managed to find a compartment, he nearly ran a poor girl right over.

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"OW!" shouted Lily protestingly. _That_ wasn't very nice. Lily had been trying to heave her trunk up the stairs, which was proving to be difficult with others attempting to do the same. And now, some snot-rag of a kid decided he would trample her? Oww. She pushed her dark, gleaming red hair out of her face as she gave her trunk one more fruitless tug, and collapsed over it. Hopeless. Completely hopeless.

Lily had come extremely close to screaming when a boy came up to her, offering a hand. "Thanks, you're so helpful", she said. Looking him up and down, she took in a number of cuts and scratches, and messy, sandy hair. A country boy, no doubt.

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"No problem. Are you alright?" Oh, come on. There was no reason for this girl to be run into the ground, just because she couldn't lift her trunk. Remus eyed the trunk appraisingly. No wonder she had trouble lifting it, it looked like it weighed a ton. Hauling it up the last of the steps, he gave her a feeble smile before setting off alone for a compartment.

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He walked down the hallway, breathing heavily. Maybe the task of lifting Lily's trunk wouldn't have been so daunting if the full moon hadn't been the night before, but alas, it had. Peering from compartment to compartment, Remus came across one that was nearly empty. The one person inside was the selfsame boy who had nearly trampled Lily. Of course, Remus had the habit of seeing the good in everyone, and was sure it had been an accident. "Hello there, may I come in?"

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"Knock yourself out." James was immersed in a comic book, his favorite pastime. Running a hand through his hair, he hadn't even glanced at Remus. After all the excitement before coming, he was quite suddenly a bit bored with the concept. That is, bored until even more visitors came to the compartment.

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"Oi, you got room in there?" Sirius Black had never been accused of having good manners. He wanted to get into the compartment, so he would tell them that. He shifted his shoulders slightly, trying to relieve the weight of a large corn sack draped over one shoulder. Of course, he had been in a very odd mood today, away from his family. For once, he had the chance to be different from the rest of them, and he would be. He grinned mischeviously. Whether being different was a good thing or not, had failed to be specified. He strolled in without waiting for an answer, gesturing behind him. "Oh, and this young lady would like entrance as well." He stood aside, revealing Lily,who waslooking rather nervous.

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"Erm... there were no compartments left, except for one, and there was this creepy kid in there, he looked like he never bathed." Ok, maybe not the best way to introduce yourself, but...she smiled to herself. At least it was more polite than the reaction of her sister before she left for school-not that this had any relevance to the situation at hand.

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Severus Snape, lurker extraordinaire, had boarded the train before anyone else, so as to secure a compartment for himself. He didn't want to spend a whole train ride listening to snot-nosed kids whine about how much they missed their mums. Black hair draped over his face, he opened a small leather-bound book, and immersed himself in it. What a people-person, eh? Who cared, anyway? Image was far from important to Severus; the last person who had attempted to invade his privacy (some stupid red-headed girl) had the door slammed in their face.

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Late. LATE. Why always _late?_ Peter dashed onto the train, a complete wreck. His parents had taken his luggage aboard for him, thankfully, but they spent so long saying goodbye that he had almost missed the train and now, he was left with the task of finding someone to let him in their compartment. Oh, he would NEVER get used to this. Maybe he should have waited another year, or three. He had also found himself checking and re-checking his supply list to make sure he had everything and--- Oh, thank goodness. A compartment that wasn't full. He knocked timidly on the door, standing well back.

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All together at last. Well--kind of. There was still Severus, but....who cared about him, right? Nearly half an hour had passed, and the group in the compartment had all opened up mostly, talking about their home lives. All except Lily. It appeared that everyone in this compartment was pure-blood, and, having read books on the matter, she wasn't sure what they would think of her parentage. So, of course, she had settled for maintaining a stony silence as she listened to Sirius joke about the number of pranks he had played on his family to get back at them, and had to suppress a giggle when he told about a certain incident that involved stuffing dungbombs in someone's knickers. The group was well on its way to becoming close, but...no. Hang on just one minute. No she wasn't the only one keeping quiet. While he had contributed to the conversation a great deal, Remus had not once spoken of his own life. Lily shrugged. Ah, well, maybe he was just shy.

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Sirius leaned back comfortably in his seat, looking over the rest of the group. Wow, he had something close to _friends,_ this was new, and not unpleasant. Remus was leaned against the window, sleeping soundly, Peter was yet again looking over his supply list to ensure that he hadn't forgotten anything, Lily was also asleep, head rested on her shoulder, and James was staring off into space, muttering random words to himself. They were barking mad, to be sure, but, hey, Sirius was also guilty of that, right?

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Severus put down his book irritably. Doesn't the human system stink? He stood up, leaving his compartment and braving the hallway to use the onboard washroom.

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Meanwhile...Sirius had become rather bored with watching the group, and began fiddling with his feet. Not a great idea when his corn sack was at his feet. The contents of this sack became immediately apparent when a large amount of Dr. Filibuster's fireworks went off with a loud BANG, shooting out of the open compartment door and hitting a very-disgruntled (understatement of the year) Severus Snape square in the chest.

Lily jerked to awareness with a start. WHAT was that? She looked wildly around the compartment, expecting an explosion. And....well, she wasn't far off, being forced to duck to avoid a large whizzing firework taking her head off. "What _exactly _was that?" She looked out of the compartment door.

Sirius stood over Severus, wearing a look of intense dislike. "Ah," he said. "_Snivellus_." Yes, this pair were quite familiar with each other; Severus's father was right in with the Black family. Sev and Sirius, though? Hate at first sight. Severus gave him a very ugly look indeed.

"Back _off,_ Black."

They both had their wands raised, Severus on the floor breathing heavily, and Sirius, standing tall, wand pointed right at the other's chest.

"Hold it, hold it, what do you two think you're doing?" A plump witch wheeling a cart stacked with sweets had just emerged from the front of the train, taking in the scene before her. "you'll both just be taking your seats now." "Go on", she added.

Shooting each other venemous looks of purest loathing, they turned their backs on each other and went on their way.

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Sirius, re-entering the compartment, realized that every single occupant was wide awake and staring.

"Who was that?", James breathed.

"Oh, you know, friend of the family." Sirius had already told the group what kind of people his family were.

"I thought he looked like a slimy git". James crossed his arms as if that settled the matter.

"Come on, now, it wasn't his fault, after all, you hit him with a bunch of fireworks." Lily glared at Sirius accusingly.

Lily and James may have continued arguing like this for hours on end if Remus hadn't cut them off. "Oi, you lot, the train's slowing down."

"Oh, NO!" Peter jumped up, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling. "I forgot my owl." The group laughed as Peter, apparently oblivious to the fact that owls could _fly_, mourned his forgetfulness.

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Okay, Lily wasn't sure whether she really liked these people or not, but one had to admit, their personalities were strangely addictive. Addictive indeed, especially--her train of thought was broken by James's voice in her ear.

"Oi, Evans, you going up to the castle at all, or were you planning to stay here all term?"

Lily blinked. Everyone else had stood up, and were preparing to get off the train. "Are we there already?", she asked lamely. How embarassing. Not like it was her fault, Lily had learned everything she knew about Hogwarts on the train. She had learned that there were four Hogwarts houses, and there was a ceremony that decided what house you would be in;Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Hufflepuff. She sincerely hoped that whatever house she were put in, she would be accepted. These thoughts carried her all the way off the train and into the muddy grounds. Encouraged by a punch in the arm, she looked up, taking in her surroundings-and had to suppress a gasp of awe.

The castle of Hogwarts in all its splendor, sprawled over the vast grounds, its reflection glimmering in a clear, still lake. Lit windows twinkled merrily like stars in the darkening sky, and a trickle of smoke issued from a cheery-looking cottage on the edge of an immense forest that stretched as far as the eye could see.

"Firs' years this way, over here, firs' years!" Enormous Rubeus Hagrid stood near the lake, holding a lantern in one huge hand, hailing the first years with the other.

Peter ducked behind Remus, eyeing Hagrid fearfully, causing Remus to chuckle.

"Don't worry, Peter, he won't eat you."

"Yeah," added James, smiling mischeviously."I heard he's on a strict no-pork diet."

Lily rolled her eyes skyward, and pointed to the lake. "Boats, gentlemen."

James grinned hugely. "Gerbils, gentlemen."

Remus smiled lazily. "postboxes, gentlemen."

-And the ever charming(or so he liked to think) Sirius took a bow. "Didja hear that? She thinks I'm a _gentleman_."

Remus raised an eyebrow. Hey, he was capable of humor too. "Your awful stench must have addled her brains."

"My awful WHAT?"

"My brains are _not_ addled!"

Peter tugged on the sleeve of Remus's robes. "Don't you think we should get in the boats?"

Boats, indeed. Waiting at the edge of the lake were a number of small rowboats (but no oars?), each seating four people. In one boat were Remus, Peter, Sirius, and James, leaving Lily in another boat with two girls she didn't know, and (ick) Severus Snape. Gee, thanks, guys.

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Severus grunted his displeasure at the seating arrangement. Not only were they all girls, it was that redheaded brat, Daisy, or some stupid name like that. He surveyed the other two girls, face expressionless.

The one right in front of him looked plain enough. Plain, green-blue eyes shone from a freckled face framed by a wealth of (frizzy) curly blonde hair. From what he could tell (she was, after all, sitting), she was only slightly more than average height, and slender. The very definition of plain.

The other girl, however, was somewhat remarkable. A bit shorter than the first, her shoulder-length black hair was perfectly groomed, olive skin clear and blemish-free. Eyes of deepest mahogany were the clearest visible feature, and-no. She was smiling openly, _welcomingly,_ even. She would be eaten alive as a Slytherin, and Severus was sure that he would be a Slytherin, his entire family had been. With his luck, he was probably surrounded by a bunch of _Gryffindors_. How utterly revolting.

The man called Hagrid had ordered the boats forward, and they glided silently across the lake, leaving no wake, defying all rhyme and reason. Under Hagrid's orders, the first-years ducked their heads as the boats glided under curtains of ivy masking a hole in the sheer rock face.

Once free from the boats, the first-years walked towards the towering castle of Hogwarts, and were currently in a large room off the Entrance Hall, waiting to be admitted into what they were told was the Great Hall to be sorted. They had formed a line in no particular order, nervously straightening their robes or fixing their hair. The majority of students did not know what the sorting involved, and were discussing how they might be sorted, not a few theories involving decapitation.

Whatever wonderful theories they were cooking up, they were cut off by a stern-faced woman with her black hair drawn back into a tight bun. "Follow me into the Great Hall to be sorted."

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James actually felt somewhat sick to his stomach. They were all standing in the Great Hall, staring at a hat which had --surprisingly-- sung a song to them, and now, students were putting the hat on so they could be told where to go...how weird. Sirius and the Evans girl had already been sorted into Gryffindor--Oh, this was frightening.

"Lupin, Remus", called the stern-faced professor who had told them her name was McGonnagal.

Remus stepped forward calmly, concentrating on where he wanted to be.

"_GRYFFINDOR!", _roared the hat.

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Lily leaned back at the Gryffindor table, applauding lazily. Gryffindor, huh? She could deal with that. She raised her head as 'Malekzadeh, Elham' was called. It was the black-haired girl who had been in the boat with her.

"_GRYFFINDOR!", _shouted the sorting hat. Lily smiled, watching Elham approach the table as 'McDonald, Alexandra' was made a Ravenclaw.

Next to be sorted was Peter, for whom the hat had taken nearly five minutes before declaring a Gryffindor. The small boy looked near-hysteria as he made his way to the Gryffindor table.

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"Potter, James", called professor McGonnagal. He stepped forward, heart dropping into his stomach. No turning back now. He pulled the sorting hat over hishead, hearing it speak, seemingly inside his mind.

_"Why, hello there, Potter. Now, where do we want to go?"_

He thought desperately of all the people he had met on the train.

_"Hmmm...that can be arranged....GRYFFINDOR!"_

He stood up, ears ringing. He would be with friends.

Now, they all sat together as 'Snape, Severus' became a Slytherin, just as he had predicted.

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The welcoming feast had passed in a blur, and now Professor Dumbledore was standing before them. "Good evening students, old and new. I have -er- a few notices before term begins. Firstly, older students may have noticed the absence of Professor Dippet. He has retired, leaving me in his stead." This last bit was said, almost as if it were worth no notice, but nonetheless, there was a great deal of applause. "Also, you will remember the quite" he paused, smiling, "_rigorous _Defence Against the Dark Arts classes with Professor McGonnagal." A few murmurs ran through the hall, punctuated by a bit of derisive laughter, "And now, she will be trying her hand at transfiguration". "And lastly, older students may have noticed the addition to the grounds of a piece of rather-" his eyes twinkled benignly-"violent shrubbery. I ask that if you value your limbs, please avoid the Whomping Willow at all costs, and I promise it won't hurt you. And now" He raised his arms is a huge sweeping gesture, "Go sleep."

The students filed out of the Great Hall, chatting animatedly as they were led to their common rooms. A Gryffindor prefect stopped outside a large portrait of a rather large woman.

"Ikea", he had said to the portrait, and it swung wide. But all of this, of course, was a half hour ago. Now, the students were all in their dormitories discussing school, and home lives, and whatever would pass the time.

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Lily sat, cross-legged on her four-poster bed, talking to Elham. "Where's the rest of your friends, like that blonde girl?"

"Crystal, Sydney and Alex got sorted into Ravenclaw."

"Oh. I see." An awkward silence stood for a moment, only to be broken when a girl called Kathleen leapt onto her bed.

"So, scope out any good-looking guys yet?"

"NO! and...who are you?" shouted Lily, scandalized. As if she would _dare_ think about that.

"I did", said Elham thoughtfully.

"Oh _really?" _Kathleen cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward.

"One of your friends", she pointed at Lily, "Sirius or something."

"EWW!" Lily mimed vomiting. They all fell back on their beds, giggling helplessly.

Many friendships had been forged that day, as well as many rivalries that would carry on for longer than anyone could have possibly anticipated.


	3. Oi Scouts

Nearly a week had passed since the start of term at Hogwarts, classes were well underway, and most first-years had become quite at home in their house towers. Emphasis on _most_.  
It was the first Friday after school had started, five days, no more. In a dimly lit corner of the crowded Gryffindor common room was a small wooden table and chair, lit only by a nearly-spent candle surrounded by wax drippings. This evening, the table was home to a very aggravated Ms. Evans. She was bent over a pile of parchment (her mangled notes), quill in hand, staring at the numerous inkblots on the uppermost page-testimony to her skill at using a quill. Stray strands of hair fell unhindered into her face as she struggled with her notes. She really hadn't had the best first week, and found herself struggling to keep up, and astonished by things like gobstones and wizard's chess, and-ARGH. When a particularly bad inkblot smeared out the only legible bit of writing on the page, the normally calm and collected Lily-completely lost it.

"ARGH! Why can't these slack-jawed idiots just use _pens_ like normal people?"

Immediately after speaking, Lily jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, groaning inwardly. "You just watched that whole thing, didn't you?"

Damn, how did she do that? James allowed himself to chuckle. "Having trouble much, Evans? That really hurt you know. Our jaws aren't that slack, honest." Gosh, that girl was hilarious, even when she was angry, and he should know, even in one week, she seemed to have developed something very close to hatred for him. Of course, he had no idea why, who could possibly resist the charm of a kid who proclaims that he's a lizard?

"Sod off, Potter."

Of all the arrogance, he had the _nerve_ to come up to her, expecting her to be nice? Not a chance.

"Aw, c'mon, isn't that a bit harsh? After all, it's not my fault you never learned to write."

"Ha, don't worry about him, Lily; he's just jealous that you can even read." It appeared that in the midst of the 'conversation', Elham had snuck up unnoticed with one of her friends, Kara.

"Hi all!" Kara smiled brightly at the pair, toying with a gold hairpin setting her hair into an elaborate bun. With her long brown hair out of her face, her most unusual eyes were emphasized. One was a rich, almond brown, but the other was half-brown, half-blue- her most distinguishing feature.

Kara had already become acquainted with the other Gryffindors during classes, having been grouped with them in transfiguration.

Perhaps James would have been able to make up a sufficiently witty retort for Elham's jab, but was spared the need to by a light tap on his shoulder.

"Leave her alone, James, she never did anything to hurt you."  
"But Reeeeemussssss... it's funnnnnnnn"

Remus cocked an eyebrow, smiling as if at some secret joke. "Alright then, you've left me no choice. Leave these fine young ladies alone or I shall have to tell them just how many hours of practice it took you to get 'wingardium leviosa' right."

"Fine young ladies? Why, Mr. Lupin, I never knew you ca-ARGH!"

Aw, poor Kara. Her lovely bout of charm and wit had been cut off by a considerably huge mar. Black pouncing on her, throwing her to the ground. "ARGH...Sirius...gerrof!"

"Aw, cous, I knew you loved me."

"Get. Off...NOW!"

Sirius obediently stood up, pulling Kara along with him.

Kara glared furiously at Sirius, pointing her finger in his face. "Cousins or not, if you do that again, I'll hang you from the top of north tower by your knickers."

"Erm...hello?" Lily raised her hand tentatively. "As long as you're all here, will someone please help me write?"

"I will", offered Peter timidly, causing everyone to jump-no one had even seen him come.

And so, Lily learned to use a quill, Peter proved himself helpful, James was a pain in the neck, Kara _had_ a pain in her neck, and they all lived happily ever after. Ha-ha no.

On the bright Saturday morning of the 27th of October, students made their leisurely way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Remus had been ill and in the hospital wing two days before, but was now looking happy and whole, if not entirely healthy. Everyone, even Lily had become accustomed to goings-on at Hogwarts, rarely got lost anymore, even stopped jumping when the morning post arrived by owl-ah, here it was now.

Hundreds of owls of every size and description swooped into the great hall, their letters aloft. Extra socks, mittens, tins of chocolate, you name it, all made their way to their owners.

But on this day, only one owl caught Remus's eyes, and apparently everyone else's, too. A sudden hush fell over the hall as a plain brown barn owl made its sedate way to Remus's side as he knew it would, but desperately wished it hadn't. Tied around a foot of the owl by a silver ribbon was a single unadorned black envelope. Everyone born to a wizarding family knew what that meant. Remus delicately unlaced the ribbon and sent the owl on its way, a shadow coming over his face. He took one swift look at the table, informed everyone that he wasn't feeling hungry at the moment, and calmly, ever so calmly, left the Great Hall.

Only when he reached the safety of his bed did Remus allow himself to cry. He did not need to read the letter to know what had happened. The full moon was two nights ago, and his parents were far too old to fight off an attack-and now they were gone, both of them. It was in that instant that Remus was so overcome with self-loathing that he resolved never to let himself get close enough to someone that he may hurt them, _monster_ that he was.

He stared blankly at a poster over Sirius's bed and remembered, as if from a different life, a conversation from the night before. They all came from different backgrounds, Sirius coming form muggle London. He had explained that muggle posters didn't move, they just sat there. It was a picture of a muggle punk band, with their oddly-shaped haircuts and numerous piercings. "The Oi Scouts", he had called them. But this was last night, and his parents had already been dead by then. So now, he must never allow himself to get close to these people, people he would so willingly have called friends, lest he hurt them.

He stayed on his bed throughout the day and vaguely remembered Peter coming in, trying to help, and asking what had happened to his parents. "Wolf" was all he had managed to say through his dry throat. Then the rest came in, he evaded Sirius's attempts to cheer him up, they went to sleep, and he sat against his headboard, eyes dry, wide awake all night. "_Never again_", we vowed silently, thinking of the people he longed to call friends. "_Never again_."


	4. A Shadow of a Doubt

DISCLAIMER: Okay, as we all know. I do not own Harry Potter. Just about everything belongs to our dear Ms. JKR. Oh, and for the beginning of this chapter, I would like to credit Cassandra Claire's i Very Secret Diaries /i , as they inspired it.

In the depths of night, the whole castle of Hogwarts slept, save for a large bird, with brilliant scarlet feathers, intelligence gleaming in its eyes. The phoenix, perched in the silent and empty office of Professor Dumbledore, gazed down unblinkingly at a sheaf of parchment on his desk, quill still sitting on top of it.

_Diary Of: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore -- (being a glimpse into the mind of a genius)_

_27th October 1971 -- Really should invest in Pensieve. Writing getting tedious and went through 3rd pot of ink in week. Will become very expensive_

_Went to ministry to convince Wizengamot to take action against Voldemort's rise to power -- half of council fainted when said his name. Maybe should get braver council._

_Parents of Remus Lupin dead -- shame, were very good people. Will miss them. Must keep eye on Remus -- no, possibilities for mischief too fun. Must warn students about Whomping Willow, though. Nearly took Gladys Gudgeon's eye out. Pity, very nice tree._

_Suspect Voldemort has contacts at ministry -- perhaps should look for people willing to fight. Yes, maybe form some secret sect._

_You know, Fawkes very pretty. Perhaps will call secret sect the Order Of the Phoenix. Abbreviates nicely. OOTP. No, maybe too long. Perhaps should just call "We Hate Voldemort."_

_Darn. Running out of ink again, and craving sherbet lemons. Mmm lemons. Perhaps will change password to Sherbet Lemons in future. "Reese's Pieces" getting old; not craving chocolate anyway._

_Minverva telling me time for evening feast. Shouldn't keep her waiting, quite unpleasant when angry. Really very much like a cat, and doesn't like sherbet lemons. Dumb cats._

_Back from feast. Superb as usual. Should look into ways to alert Muggle world of Voldemort. Silly name, really. Wasn't much nicer as Tom. Silly Tom. Really hoping for wool socks this X-mas, greatest wizard in world, have my own wizard card, Order of Merlin First Class, and still no comfy socks. Pity. _

* * *

Two months of school gone, two whole months, and Severus Snape had come to a single overwhelming conclusion: All Slytherins were disgusting, sneaky, underhanded, thieving, uncultured swine. And he had been branded as one of them. Stupid Sorting Hat, what right did it have to judge him, it didn't _know _him ... or did it?

Perhaps he _was_ just as bad as the rest of them, just as dull, just as oblivious, as hopeless, as destined for the _other_ side of the fight against Voldemort -- the very thought made him shudder.

Well, one way or another, these idiots had better keep out of the way of his studies. He was going to be an outstanding student, perfect at everything, no matter what anyone said, even Professor Bletchley, who in no uncertain terms told him he couldn't make a proper potion if his life depended on it. Stupid teachers. They knew nothing, they just hid behind the title of "professor." They were no better than the students. That was precisely the problem with the human race: no subtlety.

Sitting in the uncomfortable chairs of the Slytherin Common Room listening to mindless babble about superiority and how this "dark lord" Voldemort was going to take over was boring at best, and he dared not leave because that blood-traitor Black, the Mudblood's friend, and his flea-bitten friends were waiting for him.

Weeks went by, teachers discouraged, and Severus hid in the library, his new temporary home. He had dedicated his time to schoolwork with an almost fierce determination. School was a hurdle, and he had to jump it. Having melted his third caludron in potions, he turned his attention to -- other -- endeavours.

Today, he was writing an essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts on effects of Dark magic in the Muggle word. A series of books surrounded his slight figure, making only the top of his head visible to the outside world. _"Grindelwald and the Second World War,"_ _"Taxation Without Representation? Not Likely," _and _"The Roswell Incident -- A Wizarding Community's Efforts to Recover"_ were prominent among the titles present.

But then, who cared about Defense against the Dark Arts, anyway? This was the attitude of most Slytherins, and, clearly, as a Slytherin, Severus somehow felt that he had a duty to conform, to be like them, to scrap his four-foot long essay and write only 12 inches instead, with bad grammar and spelling. After all, who cared about defense? It was only extremely fascinating, with endless supplies of facts and theories, and practical examinations, but, of course, that wasn't _fun _...

"COOL! A secret passage into the library!" Ah, damnit. That was _them_ again, wasn't it? Mr. I'm-so-cool Black and his idiot friends. It appeared that they had a great deal of luck discovering several passages throughout the castle, and always ended up stumbling upon him, their new favorite target. He most certainly would not be getting any more work done here, and didn't look forward to being attacked. So? Where else to go? Why, safe (relatively) up in his dormitory, of course! That is, if those blithering idiots hadn't found a way in there, too.

One word to sum up Peter Pettigrew's experience at Hogwarts so far? _Eeep_ . His newly acquired friends seemed so much smarter, funnier, _better_ than he. What's a little guy supposed to do? In herbology class, he knocked over his flower pot; in potions, he melted his cauldron; and in transfiguration, his match simply refused to look even remotely needle-like, whereas the rest of them had done exceptionally well -- except for James in charms.

Peter comforted himself with this thought. He was better at charms than James, yes he was. He had gotten _wingardium leviosa_ on the second day, and Remus had to practice with James for several nights before he got it right. He wasn't rubbish at everything, and he did have friends, that had to count for something.

He thought back on Hallo'een, and found that he could remember very little of the experience, as it had been too soon after Remus's _loss_, so the group had stayed in the dormitory with him throughout the feast, as James and Sirius had somehow miraculously procured a great deal of food from somewhere or other -- later revealed to be the kitchens (how did they find that secret passage so fast?). All in all, it had been a very nice little private party, all perched on Remus's bed, munching on numerous pastries that hadn't been served at dinner.

When the time for Christmas sign-ups came, it seemed that the whole of Gryffindor house, and every other, had opted to stay, except for Peter. He was dearly missed by his family and they wanted their Pettikins back. And, of course, when Sirius had kidnapped Peter's letter from his family and found out that they actually_called_ him Pettikins, he never did hear the end of it.

Like right now. He grimaced at Sirius as they said their goodbyes. "Do you have to call me that? Goodbye anyway."

The full congregation of boys surrounded him. They waved, promising to save lots of goodies for him for when he got back(not).

"Bye, Peter", Remus called.

"See ya, Pete," James, of course.

"Come back soon, _Pettikins_ ."

"AARRRRRGGHH! IT'S NOT PETTIKINS!"

All in all, a very pretty little goodbye.

* * *

On the sixth floor of the great castle of Hogwarts was a stone wall, bare save for a huge window overlooking the lake (at least, _that _day it was overlooking the lake). And on this day, found to be staring, unseeing into the lake was seventeen-year-old Sybill Trelawney, freak-girl extraordinaire. Her mother, though not one herself, had always told her that she had all the makings of a true seer, and at this point, it seemed as if she may not be too right. For many years now, she would have odd little flashes of the sight,however,often making little or no sense: a color, a smell, a glimpse of a face, but she would tell nobody.

On this day, as she gazed at the frozen lake, hundreds of images chased each other through her head, none of them very pleasant.

_A face ... but, Oh God, it can't be human, red eyes, snakelike nose ... Ah, it hurts ... laughter ... so cold ... NO! Stop! Help, he's going to kill her! Somebody stop him, he's going to ..._

Not a single sound penetrated the castle walls as Sybill Trelawney crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.


End file.
